


The Season of Gratitude

by a_special_unicorn



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Bad Flirting, Black Friday, Comedy, F/M, Gen, M/M, Millenial Mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28664763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_special_unicorn/pseuds/a_special_unicorn
Summary: Stuck in a backwater town, Dorothy has no choice but to take a crap job at a big box retailer until her lease is up. All hands are on deck for the Black Friday event and she cannot be less enthused.For Gundam Wing Holiday Matters 2020: Black Friday (last minute shopping, capitalism, doom but make it festive)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Bringin' Gundam Wing Back, Gundam Wing Holiday Matters 2020





	The Season of Gratitude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allHolidaysMatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allHolidaysMatter/gifts).



> Special thank you for cookami for going through and giving me an edit! It desperately needed it!

Dorothy hated this store. 

The fluorescent lights flickered to life haphazardly as she worked her way through the array of switches on the wall. The sun wasn’t going to be up for several hours in this godforsaken town, and she would be allowed to leave only when it was near gone. 

She threw her cold jacket into a little cubicle the staff had access to, not even a lock provided, and kept her keys on her person. All valuables were hidden in her car, lest a wretched soul decide to kick in her window for her phone or wallet. At least she was here early enough to nag the spot well covered by security cameras.

As she turned the corner, the sight of her manager made her jump. Dorothy hadn’t expected anyone to be in the store, with the lights off and the door locked.

Wufei.

He was already in their corporate-issued vest that fit like it was made of tablecloth and tapping away at the inventory system.

“ _ Why _ are you sitting in the dark?” She snapped, irritated by the man, the store, the town.

“I was here early. It’s a waste of electricity to light up the store by myself.”

_ Early _ ? Dorothy twisted her face.

“It’s 4:00a.m. How did you get here early?”

Wufei shrugged, continuing to scroll through the program, occasionally checking numbers against his clipboard.

“I woke up early. Had nothing else to do.” 

Dorothy did not mask the disdainful grimace on her face at the thought of coming in early,  _ to a 4:00am shift _ , out of boredom. She, personally, had not bothered to sleep and was planning to make full use of the coffee press she kept in the back room all through her shift.

Black Friday. 

Only hours after everyone had travelled far and wide to see family and express their gratitude for plentiful food, safety, and familial bonds, the American tradition of clawing each other’s faces off for a half-priced piece of technology or cookware would begin.

The beginning of a line forming outside the store was already visible as she drove in. Did these people not realize they could order things on the internet now? It was her job to set up the displays so it would not crush the miscreants who would come in, barging through the doors,faces flushed from cold while their bodies cracked under the pressure of pure consumerist rage.

How was it that she got stuck with this dismal shift in this dismal job in this dismal town? She had moved here almost a year ago when Corporate had assigned her a position in the fashionable shop they were setting up in the mall. Only five employees and the manager was temporary - the position was going to be hers.

But after three months the profits were not what they needed to be and the store closed after six. Dorothy had not even been able to add the title of Manager to her resume.

Instead, she had to scramble for a job in the one business thriving in the far off, unfashionable suburban town. A big box retailer where everything was painted stark white and blue to make the eyeballs bleed at the perfect rate that it would not be an OSHA violation. Three months until her lease was up and she could move back to the city.

Luckily for her, Wufei was a new manager still proving his worth and he did most of the heavy lifting. She hoped he and his pride would stay until her time was through and give her a good reference as she kissed this hell hole goodbye.

The other schmucks she was working this day with slowly arrived. Wufei had set out a plan to give everyone breaks, in theory, and stations for everyone to man. Dorothy was stationed in the clothing department. There weren’t a lot of sales going on so her commission was going to be awful but at least she could spend most of her time “checking in the back” for sizes that didn’t exist.

At 6:00am the doors finally opened to let the most desperate shoppers flock to the electronics and toys departments, like vultures to a suncooked carcass, Dorothy watched disinterestedly as her coworkers tried to maintain some form of order. Wufei’s plan to keep the customers in line was failing miserably, and it was barely 6:04am.

Ten hours to go.

* * *

A group of old men rifled through the old man section of the store. Of course, it wasn’t called that, but who else wore those awful corduroys that came in fifty shades of boring?

“The pockets in this one, they’re too small,” one ancient, misshapen face was saying.

“So get the green.” Another hissed, pushing pants across the rack indiscriminately. Sensing this matter would fall on the shoulders of some associate, Dorothy turned. She did not want to be the one c.

“I look terrible in green.” The first whined, as if he were a child and not a centenarian.

“Now, now, I’m sure we can find someone to help.” A third man’s infuriatingly amiable voice made Dorothy’s retail senses tingle. She quickly tried to duck behind a particularly tall display, but there was another geriatric in a Hawaiian shirt (in November?) checking price tags.

Seriously, where did they keep coming from? Was there a geriatric convoy straight to the store? On Black Friday, of all days.

“There you are.” 

Dorothy turned to face her fate, delivered in the form of a tall, elderly man with a kind face and a prosthetic nose that was four shades too pink for his face. It reminded her of the potato head toys in the children’s section. Impressive head of hair though, she had to admit.

“We were hoping you could check for a specific style of pants.” He turned to the other two old men, one with a leg half in a pair of brown corduroys. Dorothy hoped he was still wearing the pants he had walked in on, and hadn’t decided to strip in the middle of the floor.

“Sir please use a dressing room if you’d like to try them on.”

“No need, no need.” The man’s foot poked through the other end of the leg. Dorothy was horrified to find that he had not only taken off his shoes, but also his socks. He wiggled his toes.

“These will work.”

Dorothy could not fathom what he was satisfied with, since it was clear now that he had not stripped by the way his hairy knuckles whitened at the effort of bunching the pant leg so it would not slip over his exposed toes. At least it seemed like he would buy the pants that he was violating.

The first elderly man, the one concerned with pockets, came rushing up to her, holding four pairs of pants. He was miniature and thin, with a long pointed nose and hair that  _ had _ to be fake. Otherwise it had to have been styled with hairspray and multiple rounds spinning in an office chair.

“You! There! I need you to find me a pair of pants with pockets like these, but in this fabric, and this color.” He handed her three pairs in quick succession, wildly the same. “And this…” He held up the last pair, considering the meaning of its existence. “Just take it.”

The mushroom scurried away, without even looking at her face. Dorothy turned to Mr. Potato Head, who had originally approached her asking for help. 

“I’ll look in the back.” She turned and left.

* * *

“Excuse me, Miss, but… where are the Christmas sweaters?”

Dorothy, who had been adjusting the jeans display, paused to look over at the young blond man that had interrupted her. He looked far too put together to be shopping in the store - a well fitted jacket and hair swept back and feathered with texture.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder as she stood, Dorothy smiled in a way that seemed outwardly professional but actually owed more to the broadness of his shoulders.

“Why don’t you just follow me and I can take you there?” She patted the stack of clothing she had been fixing, as if there weren't several pairs of jeans still strewn across the table in random directions.

“I wouldn’t want to distract you.” He had a sweet, boyish smile, completely without suggested, punctuated by bright blue orbs that she could see herself getting lost in. Well, among other parts of him.

“Not at all.” She jerked her head in the direction of the sweaters and weaved through the displays until they got to where they needed to be. They were near the aisle, where a group of lunatics were screaming over the last… pair of boots? Dorothy couldn’t tell, as she was much more favorable engaged with the blond cutie interested in dorky illustrations of Christmas trees and fat men in red.

“This is great! Ah, sorry,” he turned to her once more, “I’m shopping for… a friend. He’s taller than me but thinner.” He indicated a spot a few inches above his own head. “Could you help me pick a size?”

“You don’t shop here often, do you?” She already knew that, eyeing his brand name shoes and crisp, pressed pants. All the pants in her section were advertised as “wrinkle-free” but would never look as sharp or clean as a pair of quality slacks.

“No.” He blushed, very unmanly but incredibly becoming on his lovely face. “I was told I could buy an ‘ugly sweater’ here.” 

Dorothy smirked and leaned in, about to devour the innocent soul, when Catherine from the shoes department saw them.

“Quatre!” She threw her arms around the young man and hugged him, right in front of Dorothy. Her red curls bounced against the blue plastic of her vest, which sat entirely too loosely on her thin frame.

“Goodness you didn’t have to come today, but you’re so sweet.” She was patting his head and arms in a friendly, nearly matronly manner. Dorothy tried to place their relationship - girlfriend? Sister? Just friends?

“I see you’ve met Dorothy. She’s new but she’s  _ so _ posh.” Catherine suddenly turned to Dorothy and smiled brightly. “This is Quatre, my brother’s boyfriend. Isn’t he sweet?”

Damnit.

She should have known he was too well dressed to be straight. At least in this town. Dorothy sighed and let her arms drop to her sides.

“I’m sure you can take care of him? He doesn’t know what size to get for your brother.” She didn’t stop to hear the embarrassed sputtering from the handsome young man and returned to straightening the jeans display that some other unsupervised child would inevitably pull apart again.

* * *

Half past whatever her break was supposed to be, Dorothy stepped outside for some air that hadn’t been contaminated by hundreds of associates and customers. Good on Wufei, though, to actually get her a break relatively close to the promised time. She had expected to go all day in the store.

It wasn’t much respite. With the cold pricking at her face as she stepped off the all-too-stuffy floor, but it felt different enough that she could pretend to be anywhere but here. And there was the sun, shining down weakly from the cold November sky. Closing her eyes, Dorothy concentrated on working the stale air out of her lungs and bringing something, anything else into her body.

Maniacal cackling broke her out of her reverie. She looked around the corner to see a stout, older man running towards the store. He commandeered a discarded motorized scooter, one of the ones the store supplied for the customers with mobility limitations, and gleefully drove into the store. Dorothy sighed and hoped he wouldn’t be coming into her section.

* * *

Dorothy followed a pretty little head, certain the woman was more than a little lost. She kept stopping in front of the awful tank tops section, but was far too petite and well groomed for what they offered. Even if she wasn’t lost, Dorothy could at least point her in the right direction.

“Can I help you with anything?” She looked down and smiled at the petite blonde. Dorothy liked her poise and deep blue eyes. A little Goldilocks.

“Oh, thank you.” The pretty mouth broke into an appreciative smile. “I’m looking for a tank top, but these all seem too… fitted?”

“Women’s tanks tend to do that. If you’re looking for something to lounge around in, I’d suggest taking a look at the men’s section.” Dorothy eyed the slim figure as she led them to the mens wear, enjoying the mental image of her customer in a loose boyfriend shirt. Soft blue plaid, maybe? Long sleeve, definitely.

Or just a man’s tank, nothing else. That would do nicely.

It would certainly suit Goldilocks better than the pink button down shirt she was currently wearing. It did nothing for her curves.

“Ah, ok. I didn’t realize I’d wandered into the women’s section. Must have slipped my mind.”

Dorothy wasn’t sure how you’d miss the fact that everything was covered in lace and bows, but she didn’t really mind once the woman leaned over to look at the sizes of the tanks. The position was much more flattering to her ass...ets.

Goldilocks went straight for the dark green, which Dorothy approved of. The black would be too stark for her pink skin, and the whites just washed her out. Her manicured fingers flicked past extra small, and small, hovering over medium before deciding on large.

Must be for sleeping. Clearly someone who preferred to be covered as little as possible - a woman after her own heart.

But then she counted out the number of shirts available for the size and took three, no, maybe four, and pulled them out triumphantly.

“Perfect. Exactly what my boyfriend was looking for.”

Dorothy frowned, first at discovering the woman was not single, but then wondering at her taste in men that wanted several of the same oversized tank top.

That appreciative smile again, as she turned to Dorothy. “Thank you so much. Could you point me towards the electronics?”

“Just down this aisle and to the right. Can’t miss it.” Dorothy watched her walk away, cradling the tank tops as she did. Dorothy tried to dismiss her ruminations on what the boyfriend could possibly be like, but her curiosity got the better of her and she eventually made her way down to electronics herself.

She imagined a big, fat man with grease stains over his shirt, possibly fighting with her coworkers over the price of the latest game or tv or whatever. But the Goldilocks was standing next to a short, lithe man with tousled brown hair. 

The tank tops would fit like tents on him - but he turned and she could see his oversized shirt stuffed into his pants like a 90’s sitcom character. They were in the drones aisle or something like that, with him carefully comparing the back of two boxes.

Not as bad as she expected, for sure, but the girl could do better. Much better.

“Catalonia.” Wufei’s voice broke her train of thought, far too close to her ear.

“What.” She snapped at him.

“What are you doing here? We have too many people in electronics as is.” He gestured at the crowded checkout lanes and some associates facing down some middle aged ladies yelling at them.

“Getting water.” And she turned away to continue down the hall, to the little fast food area on the other end.

* * *

The fast food area was packed to the tits, and Dorothy spent little time weighing the benefits of elbowing her way through the crowd for a bottle of water before turning to walk away. A different direction than she came so she wouldn’t run into Wufei again. 

As she passed the privacy wall that separated the cashier from the rest of the store she spied a mushroom-shaped shadow stretched across it.

It couldn’t be… they’d have to have been here for  _ hours. _ But Dorothy couldn’t imagine anyone else having the same far-reaching haircut and prominent nose. She hurried her step, not wanting to deal with the creepy old men again, only to pass by the optometry office and see the one with the toes trying on different glasses.

It was only now, when he wasn’t obscured by racks of clothing, did she notice his prosthetic hand. He was wearing a pair of thin, dark reading glasses, though she suspected he needed a much stronger prescription than was readily available on a rack. Still, it didn’t stop him from preening in the mirror, looking satisfied, and dislodging the tag.

Dorothy walked even faster, mentally making a note to check the racks for used clothing in the corduroy section.

But there was a third old man in their group - nicer and more composed, but Dorothy had been working in retail long enough to know that it did not mean he was any more well behaved. She kept an eye out for his tuft of hair over the shelves, and found him in the makeup aisle near the front of the store.

“Oh dear, no, that won’t do.” She heard him say. Morbidly curious to what an old man could be doing in the lipstick aisle, Dorothy peeked around the stands to see what trouble Mr. Potato Head had gotten into.

What she found was a couple, a long haired man looking impatient and a dark haired woman, standing with the tall geriatric. He held her chin in his hand, and she was pursing her lips.

“See with your complexion, you should aim for an orange base, not a pink one.”

Mr. Potato Head dropped her chin and turned to the display, picking out three different colors. He held out his hand for her arm, and the woman gave it willingly.

“This is ridiculous.” The younger man, a platinum blond (that couldn’t be natural?) was muttering.

“I don’t want to hear this from you.” His companion smiled at the old man, shutting her partner down. “I have had to buy too many products for your hair to listen to you complain about a bit of shopping on my own.”

“Youth is so precious.” The old man grinned, his face twisting in a way that his plastic nose could not accomodate. It made the prosthetic pop awkwardly against his face. “This dark color, you see? It comes out much more naturally than the maroon you picked before.”

The woman looked at her arm in delight, inspecting the streaks that had been painted onto her skin. 

“Oh I love it! Where did you learn all this- you know what, forget it. I have this dress, and I’m looking for the right eyeshadow to go with it.” Without waiting for a response she dug into her purse to look for something, but Dorothy’s attention was pulled away by a loud crash.

At the entrance of the store, not far away, a display of seasonal decorations did not tower over the promoted “rare gifts” section it had for the past few weeks. Dorothy looked around for other associates but saw none. Probably mostly sorting out the mess in electronics - but surely there was someone assigned to cosmetics?

It was a little old lady, someone Dorothy did not recognize, and she sighed, realizing she would have to deal with this.

Dorothy walked up to the tangled nest of garland and bulbs, wondering what kind of bomb could have brought down the fortress of holiday cheer. 

The answer? Not the wayward child she'd expected. 

She didn't recognize him at first, having not seen him from the front before, but the receding hairline, the roundness, and the pitch black hair that stuck out in tandem with the sharp points of his mustache were depressingly familiar.

And the motorized scooter. 

Her break had been - what? - an hour ago? Who knows what this overripe ham had been up to in that time--besides demoing holiday displays--but she had managed to miss him until now.

“Sir…” she started to reach towards him, coming in close enough to smell the rank stench of alcohol and old man coming off him.

“No hablo English.” He slurred, with a strong emphasis on the ‘h’ and the word ‘English’ perfectly enunciated.

“You're drunk?” Dorothy pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering why she even bothered asking. “You’re wasted.”

“No hablo hablo.”

“Sir, I need you to leave.” Dorothy turned to find the little old lady, to bring Wufei over, but saw Mr. Potato Head instead.

“I thought you were going to stay in the car.”

“You know this man?” Dorothy stood and walked past him. “Watch him. I need to get my manager.”

Mr. Potato Head turned and looked at her, eyes slowly registering recognition. “Hey aren’t you the girl that was supposed to help us?”

Dorothy turned on her heel, awestruck at the gall of this man whose friend was still buried under seasonal vomit a few feet away from them.

“Did you leave that man, who bulldozed the holiday display at the front of our store, in a car, for  _ hours _ while you and your friends wandered around, stealing glasses, harassing associates and playing with makeup, on the busiest day of the year?” 

Potato Head threw a glance at the young couple he had been entertaining, well, half entertaining, looking guilty as hell. He turned back to Dorothy with a helpless shrug.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell?”

_ The audacity _ .

“No.” she growled, slowly and loudly. Her lack of sleep, the mess in front of her, her overall situation with the job and the apartment all rolled together into one infuriating moment. 

“No. You and your friends  _ get out _ .”

And the moment would have been tense, if not for an animated Santa that decided to loudly exclaim for little children to sit on his lap.

What was wrong with this holiday?

* * *

The party of doddering, obsolete, mischiefmakers were rounded up by a tall and muscled man who must have been twenty years their junior. But why he had not been present for any of the shenanigans until now was a mystery Dorothy did not care to contemplate.

On the bright side, he was able to remove the drunken man from the tangle of festive cheer and extract the motorized scooter too. Wufei had not left electronics, effectively putting her in charge of handling the incident while he made sure no major fights broke out in the most expensive corner of the store.

And so for the last few hours of her shift, Dorothy was reduced to rebuilding what she could only describe as seasonal corporate vomit; magical as snow in the city- after the morning commute and dog walks. The cut-out figures of Santa and Rudolph stood over baby Jesus’ crib instead of Joseph or Mary, in a misguided attempt to be secular. It was topped off with a Cabbage Patch toy playing dead in the cardboard crib, and somehow everything was covered in glitter and garland. She should’ve just glued a stocking to Santa’s crotch and been done with it.

But at least she was free from handling customers for the rest of the day.

As the sun began to set, Dorothy was finally released from retail limbo; allowed to discard the thin plastic vest and gather her belongings to go home. Upon crossing the employee exit though, she found Wufei waiting for her.

“Good work today, Catalonia.” Oh god no. Dorothy crossed her arms impatiently.

“Look Wufei, I just want to go home.”

Wufei leaned against the brick wall, nonplussed by her attitude. “I’m just saying you did a good job.”

“I don’t want your praise.” Dorothy turned and started to walk towards her car. “I don’t want your apologies either.”

“Why would I apologize.” His flat response made Dorothy turn on her heel.

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” She couldn’t decide whether she needed to close the distance between them, to show she was not intimidated. “I had to deal with drunk, crazy old men trying to take apart your store.”

“I couldn’t exactly help you- it was literally a battle royale in the electronics department, trying to get ten dollars off a discounted TV.”

That was a good point, but Dorothy wasn’t ready to let Wufei off the hook yet. “One of them took down the holiday display with a motorized scooter.”

“One of them tried to get a deal by asking me to ‘mount her hardware’.”

“I’m not the person that’s supposed to kick people out of the store. That is not my job.”

“Would you rather be the person being harassed about your ethnicity and what the proper way to say ‘hello’ in your language is? Because, newsflash, I speak English and it’s ‘hello’.”

Dorothy stopped, having nothing else to really counter with, while he looked like he was just getting started. Gathering her thoughts, she noticed for the first time that his hair was down instead of slicked back and impossibly secured in the world’s tiniest pony tail.

“Did people actually ask you that?”

“At least a dozen times, between trying to touch my hair.”

“ _ Why? _ ”

“I don’t know!”

They stared at each other, mutually exhausted and confused. She imagined him standing in the crowd of raging customers, with some woman past her prime trying to flirt with him and pulling at his hair. The image was so absurd she began to laugh and soon she heard him joining her.

“This is a shit day.” Dorothy breathed, shaking her head.

“In an awful store”

“Fuck this town.” Dorothy relaxed, the tension in the air eased. 

She knew she stuck out, dressed in the high fashion of the city in a town that preferred simple and conservative outfits. But looking at Wufei - he didn’t exactly fit into the suburban town either, where the population seemed to be primarily middle-aged office workers and their children. 

“You really moved here to be a manager?”

He shrugged. “I was studying history, was going to do a PhD… but things got… messy.” Dorothy nodded, thinking on her own life and the twists and turns she had hit. “Gotta do something.”

“Well, this is something.”

There was silence between them, as the last of the sun’s light bounced off the few clouds in the clear and cold November sky. But it was a companionable silence, comfortable.

“I’m not going to stick around.” She shook the cold off her jacket, sensing the fabric settle into rigidity. “Going to go home and enjoy my weekend.”

“Hm.” They both began to dig for their keys. They had parked on opposite sides. “Got plans?”

“Hell no.”

Dorothy shot a look over her shoulder, smirking, and saw the amusement in Wufei’s eyes, pausing for a second before walking away.

For the first time Dorothy felt that there was someone in this town worth talking to.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, the joy of a fun and silly fic, after the crazy difficulty of Powerful. This is for all the retail workers out there, dealing with COVID on top of the regular shit you've had to do. Thank you to the fandom community for helping me spitball this craziness, and my friends in retail who gave me the inspiration.
> 
> ^asu


End file.
